Cabin Pressure: Halloween Terrors
by ko-writes
Summary: Martin has issues with Halloween. TW: Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Flashbacks, Attempted Murder.


Martin couldn't do Halloween. It was too triggering. He usually could cope; avoiding the Halloween section in the supermarket for the whole of October and barricading himself in his attic when decorations came up around his neighbourhood. The students never bothered much with Halloween; maybe wearing inappropriately revealing costumes to some party in some warehouse God-knows-where; but he always stayed out of their way anyway.

He'd handled thirty potential triggers now, he would have handled this year's too; if it wasn't for MJN Air's over-cheery steward deciding to hold a Halloween party and Carolyn threatening him and Douglas to come, and in costume as well.

…

"Hello chaps! Me and mum are holding a Halloween party! On GERTI! With COSTUMES!" Arthur beamed.

Martin choked on his coffee. He couldn't do this; he seriously couldn't!

Douglas raised an eyebrow. "And has Carolyn agreed to this?"

"Yes; I have, in fact, Douglas."

"Isn't it BRILLIANT?! MJN's first Halloween party!" Arthur exclaimed. No. It wasn't brilliant. It was going to be a disaster.

"Um… Carolyn, I can't make it –" Martin whimpered. He'd been doing well; he couldn't handle a relapse at the minute. The dreams had faded away over the last five years and he couldn't cope with them again.

"Martin, you and Douglas will BOTH be there and BOTH be IN COSTUME, or Arthur will be disappointed. You wouldn't want to do that, would you? Not only would you have to contend with NON-CHEERY Arthur, which is as disturbing as it sounds; but I will not be happy, even less happy than usual, in fact."

"God have mercy on our soul…" Douglas attempted to drawl, but it didn't work when underlined with real concern.

"Carolyn, I really, REALLY can't!"

"Martin, I don't think you realise what I'm saying. Be there or it'll be your body they find –"

Martin squeaked. TRIGGER, TRIGGER, TRIGGER, TRIGGER! "Fine! I'll go!"

"Wonderful," Carolyn smiled her crocodile smile.

…

Martin was now standing in front of his mirror in his costume; a WWI air force pilot. Nothing too extreme and Halloween-y. Costumes at the party would be different, though. He prayed for a lack of gory costumes and decorations and, of course, no mascaraed masks.

A knock at the door pulled Martin out of his terrors. "Who is it?" he called.

"It's Douglas."

"Come in."

Douglas opened the cheap wood door with a groan and his eye immediately caught Martin's dashing costume. "Well, doesn't sir look handsome and not in the least bit obsessed," Douglas drawled.

"Very funny, Douglas. You make a good Mycroft." Martin pointed to Douglas' three piece suit and umbrella.

"Thank you, but I still think you should have come as Sherlock – grow your hair out and dye it brown and you'd look just like Benedict; if a bit short."

"I'm not short! I'll have you know that I'm the same height as Martin Freeman!"

"You're defending yourself by comparing yourself to an actor who gets called short hundreds of times, even _in_ the television shows and films he's in, who is the man who played the Hobbit in The Hobbit?"

"Never mind! Besides, I'm not _that _much of a fan!"

"Oh, really?" Douglas smirked as he strode towards Martin's chest of draws and opened the very draw Martin didn't want him to. "Let's see…" He started throwing clothes out of the draw, "Sherlock cosplay… John cosplay… Mycroft cosplay… Moriarty cosplay… Masculine Molly cosplay… Hang on… No Irene…"

"I have it, technically, but I don't wear it."

"Well, where is it?"

"It's Sherlock's coat and nothing else."

"My…" Douglas gasped.

"That's why I don't wear it." Hang on, Douglas was _blushing_. "Are you alright, Mr Holmes?" Martin asked in his seductive voice.

"Let's go! Carolyn and Arthur will be waiting!" Douglas basically ran out of the door, Martin chuckling as he followed.

…

Douglas and Martin strode towards GERTI. The airfield was truly deserted. Martin's heart rate quickened. No. He was fine. He wasn't in danger.

Douglas tapped on GERTIs door with the handle of his umbrella. Carolyn opened the door, wearing a very un-original witch's costume, "Douglas, you could have bothered to wear a costume," Carolyn frowned.

Martin and Douglas stared at Carolyn, mouths agape. "I am wearing a costume… I'm Mycroft Holmes!" Douglas gestured wildly to his suit and umbrella.

"You must mean the one from the Sherlock with… what's his name?"

"Benedict Cumberbatch!" The two pilots supplied in an annoyed tone.

"Yes, that's right. Now come in, you hopeless fanboys; before you freeze."

The pilots stepped into GERTI, Martin rather cautiously.

"This actually looks really good, Carolyn," Douglas remarked. Martin was too busy trying to keep his breathing in check to comment.

That was when it happened. Arthur came up to them, covered in blood. OhGodohGodohGod!

Martin ran into the flight deck and slammed the door. He fell, immediately, to the floor and scrambled backwards until his back came in contact with the wall. He curled up into a ball and willed himself not to vomit or go into cardiac arrest.

…

Douglas, Arthur and Carolyn stared after Martin. "What was that about?" Carolyn asked.

"No idea, but Arthur triggered it. I'm going to calm him down… Arthur, stay out here, clean the blood off you and go get changed into something…" Douglas instructed before hesitantly entering the flight deck.

…

The sight that greeted him was heart breaking. Martin was curled up as tightly as anyone could with tears streaming down his face from wide, unseeing eyes with pupils dilated in fear.

"Martin…" Douglas put a hand, gently, on Martin's shoulder and the younger man flinched violently.

"No… Please…" Martin whimpered.

"What?"

"D-don't… I-I w-won't tell the p-police… I-I p-promise…"

"Won't tell them what, Martin?" Douglas was getting scared now.

"J-just let m-me go… Y-you'll n-never see m-me a-again…"

"Martin? Are you with me, Martin?"

All of a sudden, the young man flinched violently in pain and strangled noises escaped his throat.

Douglas helped him up so the captain didn't choke on his own meagre stomach contents as he vomited on the floor before he passed out.

…

Douglas cradled Martin's head in his lap so he was slightly elevated in case he was sick again.

Carolyn rapped on the door and slowly entered. "God… What happened?"

"Martin… I think he had a flashback. He kept asking not to do something and he begged to be let go and that he wouldn't tell the police… He then flinched, like he was in pain, and vomited on the floor before collapsing," Douglas informed.

"That's awful!" Carolyn gasped.

"Go help Arthur clean up; I'm pretty sure this has something to do with his costume…"

"Of course."

…

_ He was running around the wood, playing aeroplanes in his Harry Potter costume. The golden leaves crunched under his feet as he made 'aeroplane noises'. That was when he heard a woman scream._

_ He ran towards her ready to help; it wasn't sensible __**at all**__, but that is what he did._

_ He saw it. That man with a knife, tearing into that women's abdomen. Martin dived into the shrubbery silently. The knife wounds were jagged and uneven. She fell, but wasn't unconscious when he began to remove her organs and show them to her. Soon enough, she was unconscious… or dead._

_ The man was about to leave when Martin's hand accidently snapped a dried branch._

_ The man stalked over to the shrub he was hiding and yanked it away, "What are you doing here, little boy?" He asked eerily. _

_ "N-nothing," Martin squeaked._

_ "You aren't going to tell anyone," He growled as he picked the small, skinny boy up by the arm._

_ "No… Please…" Martin whimpered, "D-don't… I-I w-won't tell the p-police… I-I p-promise…"_

_ "I don't believe you," The man growled, the knife hovering so close to his stomach._

_ "J-just let m-me go… Y-you'll n-never see m-me a-again…"_

_ The man plunged the knife into his abdomen and dragged it across in jerky movements. Martin's stomach heaved and blood coated his lips._

_ He was conscious just long enough to see his intestines before everything went black…_

…

Martin was disoriented when he came to in the Portacabin. "What happened?" he rasped.

"You had a flashback in the flight deck," Douglas stated matter-of-factly.

"Oh God!" Martin panicked, he could taste vomit in his mouth, "Oh God, I was sick, wasn't I?! I'm sor–"

"Martin, if your next word is sorry I have some very choice words for you. Now, tell me; what was the flash back about?" Douglas asked.

"Just something that happened thirty bloody years ago; let it go, Douglas."

"Martin, just tell us…" Carolyn sighed.

"I don't want to! It will make it worse and I had only just, in the last few years, stopped having nightmares."

"Martin…" Douglas pushed.

"Fine! As you're so _desperate_ to know, I was the victim of an attempted murder when I was eight after witnessing a successful one!" Martin yelled. Carolyn and Douglas gasped.

"What?" Carolyn questioned before abandoning her stony persona and wrapping her arm around Martin's shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

A pained noise escaped the young man and Carolyn immediately released him. "Sorry… My scar's usually tender after a flashback…" Martin apologised.

"Can I see it?" Douglas questioned.

Martin frowned at him a second before lifting up his shirt to reveal a long, jagged scar spanning across the whole of his lower abdomen. It was extremely deep.

"Oh, Martin…" Carolyn gasped.

"Halloween just… triggers me."

"I shouldn't have made you come…" Carolyn admitted in a small voice.

"Too bloody right you shouldn't –" Douglas began before Martin interrupted.

"It's fine Carolyn…" Martin dismissed.

"Why don't we all go to a café and talk about this some more…"


End file.
